


High With Me

by fratcalum



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Calum will be high if you haven't realized that yet!, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 11:19:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3065930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fratcalum/pseuds/fratcalum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based solely on a whim, you traveled abroad. A long, sleepless airplane flight to England wore you out plenty. Though it didn't stop you from exploring the history-rich country for eight months. Eight months away from your hometown, from your boyfriend, was as much as you could take. Another extensive trip home was your last straw; you just wanted to go home to Calum and cuddle the remainder of the night away. When you closed the front door behind you for the first time in what felt like years, your night took an unexpected turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	High With Me

**Author's Note:**

> I spent days writing this. I outlined it, wrote a rough draft, finished the final copy. That much work better be worth it! This is a one shot, and I like my one shots to have thicker plots to follow. I hope the (probably) unnecessary details don't bore you, haha. Enjoy enjoy enjoy bby

You hopped eagerly out of the taxi you’d hailed and strapped your backpack over your shoulders. You slammed the door shut a little too hard, but carried on to the trunk of the taxi to haul your suitcases out. Waving to the taxi driver after paying as your way to thank him, you dragged your luggages up to the front door of your home. Both hands trembled with excitement - excitement to be home.

You expected your boyfriend to be home when you did. He offered to drive to the airport to pick you up, but you declined. Out of all places you wanted to reunite, an airport was the last of them. Instead of the airport, you’d agreed unanimously to hail a taxi and surprise him. He didn't know when you were coming home.

For the previous eight months, you were in Europe while Calum stayed at home. When you were younger, Europe had always fascinated you. The thick history of the continent interested you enough to propel you to research it. Soon enough, you’d made the bold decision to see the famous buildings and monuments with your own inexperienced eyes. Of course, you had jumped on the bandwagon of millions and traveled firstly to England.

Now with months of culture shocks wedged in your brain, you’d admitted that another day miles away from home would have been too much for you. Rashly deciding to return to your hometown, to your cozy home, to your loving boyfriend - it was the perfect choice.

Prior to departing for Europe, Calum had promised to call and text you whenever possible. In other words, you and Calum talked all the damn time. He’d kept his promise more than you’d thought he would. Calum had no hesitation in terms of sending you a sweet text message, knowing it was the only way to express his longing for your return. 

Once you sightsaw something culturally significant, you would snap a picture of it (though it’d take one hundred tries to get the perfect snapshot). Beside your mother, you would send the picture to Calum, firstly. Just like you knew you would, you missed him for the entire duration of your trip. Honestly, returning to his welcoming embrace was something you’d anticipated for much too long.

The silver key in your hand struggled to slide into the lock. When it did, you sharply turned it, and a click of success rung in your ears. The first step into your home was a step you hadn’t expected to take. The first sight of your home was a sight you didn’t want to see. A hazy smoke cloud had broken into invisible air particles and spread thinly throughout the house. The smoke swam in your eyes and dried them out, so a single tear rolled down your cheek in response. You blinked a few extra times and suddenly linked the clues together.

Calum was high.

“God, damn it,” you cursed aloud. You had been well aware of Calum’s experience with drugs. You yourself had shared some of those experiences with him. Only the difference between you and him was it had been two years since your last high. Sadly it wasn’t too mind-blowing the first time, given you kept choking on the suspicious puff of air. Somewhere squeezed in between the next few attempts, a risen liking for drugs had crept in your brain.

You knew if you wished to travel abroad, you’d have to flick the terrible habit off your shoulder. Luck appeared to be on your side during that time of change, since your drug use was on the brink of disaster. Because of your carelessness, you hadn’t quit as easily as you’d started. When you stopped, you couldn’t convince Calum to copy your actions. Despite your efforts, he managed always to sneak in small packages of weed into your home. Without your knowing of it, he’d smoke.

Though he found loopholes, you were determined. The opportunities you lobbed his way, he had dodged. Recovery was like a basketball aiming at his face, but Calum was too experienced not to step out of the danger zone. It wasn’t like you despised smokers, but the thought of your boyfriend not smoking in moderation made you nervous. You didn’t want him to overuse it to the point of abuse. Abuse could lead to addiction, and you certainly didn’t want his usage to reach such an extremity, just like you almost did.

On the plus side, Calum rarely smokes. The breathtaking thing about Calum was he knew how to resist. Unlike him, you had struggled with resisting the temptation to smoke. He could last months - years, if he tried - without a fix. 

He’d told you repeatedly how he smoked whenever he was so stressed and anxious to the point of no return. You were aware of his anxiety over certain things, and you could calm him down, for the most part. If he felt like anxiety was overwhelming him, he would turn to you immediately. You were his muse, his missing factor. A single touch to his jumpy skin would root into his bones to relax him.

Though every few months or so, you would realize that you couldn’t help him. He'd fall in your arms, but slither out of them like putty. You were powerless against what you couldn't control, thus propelling him to smoke. Smoking was a gateway to relaxation for him, and you couldn’t argue with that. You hadn’t smoked for the same reason, though. You used to smoke solely for the high it gave you.

Blindly following the faint path of smoke to your shared bedroom, you rubbed your eyes clear of the merciless substance clouding your vision. The scene, once cleared up, unfolded directly in front of your red, irritated eyes. 

It was exactly what you expected. Calum, sitting upright on the bed. Calum, completely tripped out. Calum, a boy with hair matted with fantasies. Calum, a body contorted with the high that had crashed down on him a while ago. The high was growing stale, from the looks of it, but tiny specks of it still bubbled through him.

“Calum, baby, I’m home,” you announced, taken aback by the once familiar boy facing you. With the first step in the room, your suitcases on either side of you halted to a rough stop. After eight months of a cleansing cultural adventure, it was unusual to see your boyfriend - to see your boyfriend flickering in and out of reality - in person. Back in England, it had slipped from your memory that in the past, you and Calum had rolled a few blunts together. Call it what you must, but you loved to think of it as a ‘bonding experience.’

Calum never called or texted you when he was high, cleverly. You wondered why that was while you were temporarily in England, but it made sense to you now. He knew a light would spark in you, rushing the memory of his smoking in your brain again. He knew how uncomfortable and sad you’d be to comprehend his mumbling of words because you were already too skilled at it.

He stared at you, his eyes barely adjusted to the fading glimmer in yours. Similarly, he recognized you, ignoring your exhaustion and jet lag, and dropped the dwindling blunt on the floor. His bare feet stomped on the carpeted portion of the hardwood flooring, thus smashing the blunt’s dulling fire. “Oh, my love, my love, my love,” he greets. His open and accepting arms stretched out to invite you in his embrace. The sound of your backpack plopping in place on the floor made you accept the invitation. Eight months led up to this reunion, so you seized the moment. Once you shuffled into his arms, they enclosed around you like a fleece sweatshirt. A tingling sensation erupted through your veins and caused your blood to boil over with your reinvigorated love for your boyfriend.

“How much have you smoked since I’ve been gone?” questioned you. You figured it was safe to ask him because you'd entered your home when his high was old news. With a high as fresh as morning dew, Calum had a habit of being overly sentimental when the weed swaddled his common sense in a soft blanket of smoke and lured it into an enchanting slumber. The months of separation started weighing you down on the drive here, and you were not ready to deal with Calum's antics. Too much effort for too much exhaustion to handle.

“How long have you been gone?” Calum led your enveloped bodies to the bed, decorated with a disheveled duvet, and waves of disorganization wrinkled the exposed parts of the bed. His knees buckled at the collision with the edge of the busy mattress, and you became airborne before landing on top of Calum. Your bodies underwent the process of reshaping to accommodate the new curves and flaws in both of your figures. 

They meshed together like two pieces of paper glued together. Aside from the little bumps and imperfections on their surfaces, they found a way to connect in harmony.

The one thing that amazed you about your relationship with Calum was the understanding of every aspect of your body. Your first kiss, the moment in which your lips were perfectly in sync before they touched. The first (of many) late night cuddling session, the hours of quiet joy eased you into a vortex of sleep. The most vivid part of that memory was the simple task of conforming to the curves and bones in his shoulder when your head rested on it. 

Walking downtown to your favorite coffee shop together, the seconds his hand'd breezed past yours. At that moment, nothing felt more needed than for your fingers to weave into a complex pattern until your palms matched up, unnatural precision as their aide.

Last but not least, the first time you'd made love - an absolutely unforgettable experience. It was as if the moments leading up to it were meant for those few sensual hours of pure ecstasy. With every kiss and cuddle, he had surprised you, made your heart flutter. All of those combined had been samplers of what was to occur during sex. 

Must you say, you wished you’d gotten less teasers. 

Maybe the first time would have been more unpredictable if you hadn’t understood each other’s bodies to the fullest extent. Some discovering and exploring of the unknown could be more exciting. On the flipside, knowing your lover well enough to unravel new possibilities of pleasuring had the capability to be as shocking.

“I’ve been gone for the whole year, almost…” you whispered. Despite the fading high, Calum could become cuddly and affectionate rather fast (if you could say the right things at the right time).

Calum’s bulky arms enclosed around you and trapped you in his warmth. His warmth, you loved it. Mostly you turned to Calum if your normally boiled blood had chilled in the slightest. “Really?” You nodded; his eyes, more red and irritated than yours, focused on one hundred aspects of your face at once. One second, he’d look at the microscopic scar on your temple from a childhood accident. The very next, he’d study the laugh lines that’d sunk deep into the edges of your eyes throughout the years. Happiness was clear on your face, but it wasn’t shining through as brightly. “I didn’t notice you were gone.”

“You didn’t?” you blurted. If he hadn’t noticed, he must had been obviously smoking every minute he could. No one could not be aware of their partner's absence for as long as you were gone.

He giggled, justifying your accusation. That disappointed you slightly, and Calum noticed. You were doubtful when it came to leaving Calum. Without you to push him towards his common denominator, it was painfully likely that he would smoke more and more per month. “I can tell you’re worried. You’ve got a million questions, but only one at a time. My brain can’t handle them all, baby girl."

His statement ceased your worry slightly, but not your suspicion. You expected Calum to be this giggly and jumpy at this point of time. Jokes were expected; mix jokes with gushy, romantic gestures... you were bound to have a cuddling session with Calum if things went as expected. “So why didn’t you notice I was gone?”

“I was too lonely to realize you weren’t with me,” he confessed. Those words signaled the start of his sad, romantic drama movie-like happenings. With experience under your belt of dealing with this, you had learned to brace yourself for it. Holding back your emotions had gotten easier for you through the years, but you'd come to the conclusion: you couldn't hide them from Calum. This time though your heart was pierced with a needle poisoned by his words.

“Can I ask you something else now?” you mumbled, eager to stray away from anything sadder than what he had just said.

“Sure, baby. Anything for you,” he gushed. He brushed a collection of hair behind your ear. His hand trailed down your face, then his pulsing fingertips tapped at your protruding collarbone. His eyes locked with yours for a split precious second. 

The redness of his eyes didn’t bother you as much as you'd thought it would. You hated admitting it, but the redness of the whites of his eyes looked so comfortable with the task of surrounding his pupils. It was like it preferred Calum over everyone else. A smile twitched on your lips, and a smile broke through his chapped lips in response. 

Calum was so fixated on his smile and creating a rhythm on your skin that he’d forgotten about the conversation.

“Calum,” you addressed in hopes of getting his attention.

It didn’t. Your skin was still buzzing with the beat of his fingers.

“Babe.” You rolled your eyes to add dramatic effect he wouldn’t notice. Knowing there was not another option, you scooted up to straddle him above his hipbones. Coincidentally, it tore his fingers away from your skin, and Calum wouldn’t stop reaching for you once it did.

His heavy, concentrated breath overwhelmed your senses every time his nose brushed past yours during the shift. The exposed presence of weed barely bothered you. First-hand experience gave you an advantage for situations like this.

You wrapped up getting comfortable, leaving an open chance for Calum to drum against your skin once more. You cupped both of his cheeks with little struggle and pulled him away from you. In the midst of stroking his flushed skin, you placed a slow kiss on his lips. Exactly like you knew it would, it got his attention. 

His response was delayed, but it was a response nonetheless. His lips moved with yours as soon as his brain sent the message that your lips touched his, like he hadn't expected them to do. Your hands at this point were lost in the thick jungle of dark hair on his head. 

A depleted air supply forced you to tear the kiss apart, and he whined, “No, kiss me more.” His demand had lost its aggression once he giggled, which made you giggle along. Pulling at his lips was a sly smirk that replaced his wide smile; it brought light on a theory, also: exhaustion and drugs didn’t mix. 

“I’ll kiss you if you answer one of my questions,” you promised. A fair deal would convince him to force himself to concentrate on you more than anything.

“Can you ask the question after we kiss?” he asked. A meager hint of hope shadowed his droopy eyes, but the shake of your head intimidated him enough to blink it away.

"Keep this up and you'll get nothing," you jokingly threatened. Calum noisily gasped, and the broken down look on his face made it seem like he was truly hurt. That worried you, and you begun to believe you'd said the wrong thing. But Calum exploded from trying to keep his laughter in, instantly giving away how gullible you could be. "You're such a meanie, Calum! Stop worrying me like that."

"Sorry, babe, I couldn't not trick you. It's my specialty," he boasted. 

_Only when you're high,_ you thought.

His hands ran up and down your arms two or three times before they curled around your shoulders. Sneakily enough so you wouldn't notice, he hooked one set of fingers into the frayed collar of the old band tee-shirt he gave you. The other tickled up your neck, purposely to form goosebumps all over your body, from your head to your pinky toe. To be a smartass, his hand hovered over your waiting cheek, a refusal to move a millimeter closer. "Still got goosebumps, darlin'?" he teased.

You rolled your eyes - this time, he paid attention to you long enough to notice. Though he was headed down the easiest path consisted of wrapping you around his finger, he lost track of his original task within seconds of receiving it. Without waiting for a clever reply from you, he cupped your cheek. 

In the midst of his stroking the smooth flesh protecting the hill of your cheekbone, you lifted your hand to meet his. Your ring finger bent one more degree than the other remaining digits. Sparks were jolted alive to fire when your bending finger and his caressing finger met. From there, your tiny palm fell on top of his. The spacious gaps between his stiff fingers were filled with yours that'd slowly fallen into them.

You folded your fingers over so they barricaded a little portion of his hand. It was enough coverage for you to muster the strength to lift them off your face and into the free-spirited, open air. 

His focus reverted to the intertwined hands, now floating away from him effortlessly. A smile peeked out of his drowsy exterior; it was lovely while it lasted. It seemed more genuine than the different smiles he'd accomplished so far.

"Keep smiling. I love it," you encouraged with a large grin. He, having to throw in a goofy joke, had the biggest, cheesiest smile slapped on his face. You could see nothing besides teeth. His lips were somewhat tucked into his gums, and you didn't like the look of a failed try of being happy.

"Don't you love me more?" He pouted. The neglected hand, hooked in the collar of your tee-shirt, tugged at it again. This time, though the opposite end dug into the reddening skin of your neck, he pulled it down until it passed the protruding section of your collarbone. He strained to move up to kiss the exposed skin, but the kiss revived the buzzing musical composed by his fingers minutes earlier.

“Of course, I love you more,” you admitted. You felt his smile against the steepest curve of your shoulder, his favorite curve. “I’ve been waiting for that smile.” Calum laughed breathily. The doubt etched in your mind had fizzled when his smile was accompanying his laugh. 

He didn't respond, which was atypical. He’s mostly known as the chatterbox of the relationship, high or not. Calum merely resumed kissing you, unaware of your untangling his hand from yours.

“Did you smoke a lot while I was gone?” you blurted. Still, he hadn't replied, which you couldn't tolerate further. He mastered zipping past the questions he hadn't wanted to answer; you weren't going to let him get away with it this time.

Kisses were plastering a mask on your flesh nonetheless, so you placed both of your hands on his chest. “Calum, look at me,” you ordered while peeling him away from you.

You repeated the question, and his face drained of all color possible. “I’m sorry,” was all he said.

As his way to apologize, he extended his arms out to you. You’d dodged them by rolling off of him and landed back-first on the fluffy duvet. From there, you sat up. “Don’t be sorry.”

“Why not?” he pressed, the confusion wielding a voice crack. He sat beside you and hunched his back to express the disappointment in himself.

“Because I’m not mad,” you explained poorly. You weren’t mad, honestly. You glued the broken pieces together, and you’d realized that Calum was trying to protect you from that dark secret. It was obvious he’d smoked more while you were gone, but you’d refused to accept that for the extensive period of separation. He called you when his body was clear of drugs, so you wouldn't question him about it. Though you’d missed him, you knew he’d missed you way more. No competition in that department - he’d already won.

“Okay,” was his only word on the issue. You dared not to move a muscle, so Calum picked up your slack. He scooted behind you, leaving a few-inch gap between your bodies. The pads of his fingers pressed into your waist and guided you backwards, gently. He’d stopped once your shoulder blades dug into his torso.

“I’m not mad,” you repeated.

You shivered at the sensation of his chin applying pressure onto the curve of your shoulder. Slowly, meticulously, he nuzzled his face into your neck. “You say you aren’t, but you are. I can help you get rid of that anger, if you’d like,” he mumbled quietly, as quietly as your voice. His warm breath masked the area it knew best.

He'd kissed where his words vibrated against your icy skin, a tactic used to elongate the thought you put into his offer. “But I’m not mad.” At the point, you were shivering so much to the point in which you had no way to hide it from him.

“But you are. Please, stop lying.” Every word flowing reluctantly past his chapped lips made you shiver. Like you’d wished he wouldn’t, Calum noticed. “Why are you shivering? Are you cold?” It didn’t sound like there was a speck of concern in his voice. His voice was dark - dark enough to contradict his subtle neck kisses. You didn’t respond. You couldn’t respond.

Calum responded for you, “You may be mad at me, but you don’t have much to say.”

Calum was rocking you back and forth in his arms, kisses splattered all over your neck and words tattooed delicately on your sensitive flesh. The more he spoke, the easier it was for him to cast his spell on you. To prove his point, you didn’t say anything. He chuckled lowly; the vibration only sent more chills up your body.

As his lips moved farther up your neck, his hands graced down your body. They reached the pool of extra tee-shirt fabric and searched relentlessly for the hem. His breathing was dense, but it felt as light as a piece of paper traveling in the air, while it fanned over you. A handful of your tee-shirt was scrunched in his hands and sluggishly lifted up your torso. Calum was more focused on kissing you, so the process took longer than you'd liked.

Later rather than sooner, he planted a final kiss to your neck, then peeled the unwanted item off of you. He lobbed it to the other side of the room, despite how unnecessary it was. The usual Calum, always dramatic in random situations. 

You had on a very comfortable bra, knowing the tiring plane and car ride home wouldn't be appropriate for a fancy one. He admired your assets as if you were wearing matching lingerie, dark lace and thin straps. You could be wearing a trash bag, and Calum would admire you as if you were cloaked in the finest clothing. His fingernails scratched down your back, and he purposely hooked his fingers through the bra strap while doing so. He didn’t move from there; he didn’t even unclasp your bra. “Turn around,” he demanded kindly. He wouldn’t settle for eyeing your shoulder blades. He waited too long for this moment, and he didn't want you facing away from him.

You twisted your arms to grab his wrists and ripped his hands away from you. Then, you swiveled around in his lap until you were face-to-face, instead of chest-to-back. A wider grin overwhelmed his sharp facial features. “That’s better,” he breathed. 

A hand brushed through your hair, and a look of awe replaced his smile. “You got a haircut, didn’t you?” assumed he. 

Calum kept messing with your hair until you replied, “You noticed just now?”

“It’s really hot,” he complimented. You blushed, and he resumed rediscovering your body. Everything felt new to him. The niches of your body he used to know so well were foreign to him, and it was going to take more than tonight for him to readjust to them.

As you twisted the hairs at the nape of his neck, his hands swooped back down to the thick bra strap. He tugged at the fabric and pinched it in his hands. You slowly moved closer to him and stopped when your noses squished together. “I missed your touch,” you whispered. Your eyes were shut, and serenity glided through you and unwound your nerves as Calum weaved it all throughout you.

“And I missed yours.” You opened your eyes, firstly were greeted with Calum's loving gaze. Swiftly, and without warning, you tore his shirt off and dropped it on the floor. You, once again, had prevented him from taking your bra off, thus irritating him. “You think you’re funny, huh?” he challenged, abruptly destroying the calm atmosphere. Your lips pressed against his before another protest escaped his mouth as your bodies simultaneously fell over and crashed into the mattress. 

“Funnier than you,” you murmured mid-kiss. With a secure hold, he rolled over so he was on top, instead of you. The kiss didn’t stop during the transition, so neither of you cared to pull away.

“That’s my girl,” he praised. Calum loved complimenting you on the simplest of things you’d do or say.

It made you happy. It showed how observant he could be. You couldn’t wish for better, because he always remembered the little things. Remembering how you'd never eat jell-o because the texture freaked you out; never forgetting that you'd set your alarm for five minutes before you were supposed to wake up; all of that was especially important to him.

At his statement, you propped yourself on your elbows. The needy kiss finally died down. He pecked the corner of your mouth, your cheek. He then skipped merrily to your collarbone, and left wet smooches across it. An intricate trail pulsed against your skin, but faded when Calum paused at your bra blockading the valley between your breasts. “It’s in the way,” he stated matter-of-factly.

Seeing that he was too distracted, you dug your nails into his waist and used all your strength to roll over, landing you on top. You sat astride his hips and straightened your back out. You begun grinding on him, a smirk on your face as friction was created. “This is in the way too,” you fired back, referring to his pants. You slowed down your grinding to tease him further. At this point, he was completely pale, and you knew you’d won this short-lived battle.

“What about yours, babe?” he stuttered, his composure practically crumbling in front of your eyes.

“Let’s focus on you, first,” you said. Your hands had crawled down his exposed chest until they came into contact with the belt loops of his pants. You tugged on them and scooted down his legs so the button of his pants was exposed. Firstly brushing your fingertips past the zipper of his jeans, you, as meticulously as possible, unbuttoned his jeans.

Safely, you could say you might get Calum high off of something other than drugs tonight.

“Babe, don’t tease me,” he groaned. 

_Funny,_ you thought, _I’m usually the one saying that._

A grin had stretched to both of your ears as you helped Calum remove his skinniest pair of jeans. “Don’t be pushy now," you reprimanded. You positioned yourself back on top of Calum, sometimes pushing too hard on his boner. Knowing your tricks, he didn't fall for that one (for the first time in a while). He seized the moment and expertly unclasped your bra. You let the straps fall down your arms, and he removed it. His hands tickled up your arms and breezed past your breasts, the buds undoubtedly hardening just the thought of his hands massaging them. His hands hovered above them, but didn't make any moves. Irritation pierced you, so you purposely bounced on his prominent hard-on. No response. You applied more pressure this time around. A sharp intake of air filled his lungs when you did so, making you smile with victory under your tongue.

“Babe,” he moaned. At his plead, you resumed grinding, and Calum’s hips rolled with the rhythm of your slow heartbeat. “Do something more, p- please.”

“You thought you would have me wrapped your finger, didn’t you, Calum?” you interrogated. 

“I want you to ride me, baby,” he begged, indirectly answering your original question. His eyes fluttered closed, the friction proving to be too much for him.

“Not yet,” you purred. “I want to do something else.” Your motions halted to a stop, and he visibly relaxed.

With a deep breath to calm himself down, he peeled his eyes open. “My baby,” he breathed, making your heart flutter. You knew what trickery he was trying to do, but you weren’t going to fall for it.

You simply smiled, and your hands massaged his body for a few silent minutes. “What do you want to do?” Calum blurted. Curiosity got the best of him, though he tried to persevere. The blush on his cheeks indicated his embarrassment from becoming so vulnerable so quickly. He wasn't used to the roles being switched. You were the dominant one. You were in control, whereas Calum was the one who had been expected to morph into what you wanted him to be. He knew there was no way to weasel his way back to the position he knew best. If roles were to be reversed, he wanted it to be perfect and unforgettable.

You leaned down to kiss him, then crawled off of him. You stood up from the bed and waited until he sat up. Still refusing to answer the question, you grabbed his hands and knelt in front of him. “Can you guess now?” you asked.

A bright red blush crept on his cheeks, and he nodded eagerly. You slid his boxers off, dropping them besides you. You rubbed his thighs gently, your touch already making him cave in. The tiniest gasp fell from his lips, and you took that as his admit to defeat. He’d let you have your way with him. He wasn’t going to hold you back from doing anything you wanted.

He was breathing heavily, but it subdued once you properly knelt down in front of him - hands on his thighs, arched back and bent legs. It was his favorite, and that seemed to be the only unchanged thing about this night. He smirked down at you as you curled your fingers around his length and pumped him a few times. 

Finally, you flattened your tongue against the base and licked up to his tip. From rashly deciding to repeat your action once more, you slowed down this time. He moaned loudly; at this rate, the very thought of your pleasuring him was enough to get him through the night. Besides it was what got him through the eight months without you.

He would have plenty more to think about, now that you were home.

You quickly form an ‘O’ to take his tip into your mouth. You sucked generously, and his hips bucked before you’d even started. You had to hold his hips down to keep him from moving any more than he had. “Oh, baby…” he groaned.

You giggled accidently, the vibration of your voice causing his cock to twitch unexpectedly. You hadn’t started anything major, and it seemed as if he was ready to release. You leaned back, his tip exiting your mouth. “I haven’t even gotten to anything good, Cal, and you’re going to come already?”

He was so far beyond embarrassed that he didn’t care at all how ridiculous he was acting. “It just feels so good,” he said. You knew you had him completely whipped.

You stayed silent, had no response. You settled for resuming your actions, only skipping what you’d already done. You took his tip back into your mouth again and went down as far as you could on his length. Midway down his shaft, you hollowed your cheeks out. Just before the possibility of gagging stepped into the equation, you traveled back up until you released his member with a popping noise.

“More, baby. Don’t stop there,” he pleaded. You smiled deviously. His cock was covered in your saliva, so instead of continuing what you’d tried to maintain, you stood up suddenly. Calum, utterly vulnerable and needy, watched you walk over to the bedside table. You opened a drawer and pulled out a condom. He couldn’t see what was in your hand until you spun on your heels and flashed it in the air.

He smirked. Out of subconscious habit, he tried taking the condom out of your hand. However, you hid it behind you so he couldn’t reach it. “Let me do it,” you offered. It shocked Calum substantially to hear that. He knew you weren't comfortable with putting it on for him.

Since tonight was stuffed to the brim with surprises, you figured you'd break that fear. It made you nervous and clogged your brain with the possible flaws that could appear. Doubt was foreign to you, especially during sex, and you didn't want it to hold you back. Like a fly buzzing around your head, you swatted it out of your brain and killed it with ease.

Clearly, you knew he wouldn’t reject, so you sauntered to him and stood in between his legs. A natural want to overpower you overtook Calum once he processed what was about to happen: one more thing - the condom - was out of his control now. Before kneeling down again, he grabbed your hips forcibly and pushed you closer to the edge of the bed. His lips came into contact with the milky skin of your lower stomach. 

He licked up to your bellybutton and around it, moving to the curve of your waist. His firm grip on your hips prevented you from moving. Luckily, it was so strong that your buckled knees didn’t crack under your weight. He kept you stable.

“I love you,” he mumbled against your skin. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” Every fresh kiss inked those words on your body. As he kissed you, his hands fumbled with the button of your jeans. Once unbuttoned, you stepped away from his touch to kick them off, leaving you in your underwear. Your underwear, the last item of clothing to be shed. But in order for Calum to have the pleasure of taking them off, you had to complete what you'd started.

After you knelt in front of him again, you ripped open the packet and removed the condom from it. You rolled it leisurely down his full length and smiled with satisfaction once you finished. He was biting his lip, and you swore you could see blood being drawn from his lips.

You got back on your feet, and Calum wasted only half a millisecond to hook his fingers through the waistband of your panties. He tugged at them, and you heard an unusual noise slice through the silence. You looked down to pinpoint what caused it, and what you saw shocked you. You gasped shrilly and covered your mouth to muffle it.

He’d actually ripped your panties.

“Oh, my God, Calum!” you squealed. A loud laugh formed in your throat, gathered cohesively in your mouth, and burst out past your lips. “You’ve never actually ripped my panties off before!” 

He just shrugged, not giving a single fuck as he tugged for the last time. He was too antsy. The final rip divided the few final threads, thus ending his moment to shine. He tossed the ruined panties carelessly behind him. With everything set up and as prepared as possible, he scooted towards the center of the bed, and you joined him by straddling his hips. 

You held his shaft firmly in your hand, and teased your own entrance. You took your time, though. If this happened to be the only time you had control over how you'd be pleasured, you wanted to do it as perfectly as possible. Calum, unable to tolerate such carefulness, had tried to pull you down on him, but you objected. “Please, baby, ride me,” he moaned after more failed attempts. You shook your head, and his frustration flooded the room. You shrugged it off as you guided his tip in between your folds. They were split apart, and you ran his tip through them until you felt your legs shake with anticipation.

“Patience, Calum…” you rasped. The next agonizing minutes of silence and a sexually tense atmosphere were solely to get him worked up. It worked, most definitely. He was unsure of how to react. Your demanding, yet kind voice threw him off, so he did nothing but watch you. Watching you was all he could do.

His eyes burned holes wherever they landed on your face and body alike, but didn't phase you at all. Figuring it was time to make your move, you removed your hand from his member. A sigh fled from you - but your worries remained - to prepare you for entering him yourself. You had to admit: you were ridiculously nervous. It was rare for you to be as dominant as you were now, and you were doubtful. How had Calum kept his composure so well? The pressure to do everything right was a pressure far beyond what you were used to, but for Calum, it was an easy Sunday morning stroll.

Calum could read all of your worry and what-if's on your face. Unfortunately, he was too wound up, and he couldn’t wait a second longer. If you hadn't excited him as much as you did, he'd take the time to calm you down. He assumed you were okay, which was an awful assumption. But he was worried too, he made it less obvious. He was nervous to be as vulnerable as he was, and he'd doubted he did the submissive act any justice.

The questions swirled around the dim room, but you both didn't want to address them. What would happen if you did? What would happen if Calum did? Nothing good, that's for sure.

Taking initiative, like he did best, he mustered up the strength to dig his nails roughly into the flesh he’d previously treated so gently. From there, he pushed you down on him forcibly. His hands lifted you up and down until you caught onto the rhythm. Growing more confident moving by your own, you grabbed his hands and pinned them on his chest. You bounced steadily, maintaining a pace that wasn't too fast nor slow. Everything was flowing well together. The questions still taunted you, though, and you immediately moved Calum's hand back on your body.

When your hands left his, his hands scratched freely all around your back, leaving marks along the way. The first round didn't hit you hard - until he dug his nails into your shoulder blades. You groaned aloud in pain, driving him to keep up with it. The messy art he'd created on your back wasn't enough for him, so he went to the curve of your waist. It was harder to paint on your skin while you were riding him, but he prevailed. Once he was satisfied with the masterpiece he’d created on you, he slapped your bum. It certainly wasn't a gentle slap, but you figured it wasn't completely numbing.

However, when you felt the burning sensation, you concluded that he’d definitely hit harder than you thought.

Despite your hesitation, you leaned back to give him a full-frontal view of your body. It applied pressure to your numb backside, but you ignored the pain. Pain seemed to be a recurring theme tonight, so you should get used to it while you can. His hands explored your body once you balanced yourself, and you were relieved. The pace slowed down, but you didn't mind. If being on top felt this good, you didn't want it to end. Every area of you was covered in his fingerprints, proof of the effect he had on you.

His eyes squeezed closed, and you were astonished at the sweat breaking out on his hairline. “Should I go faster, baby?” you asked.

You sunk down on his length fully and rolled your hips in (kind of misfigured) figure-eights. “P- Please, oh…” he moaned, “please.” 

The low pitch of his begs drove you insane, and without much thought, you picked up your pace. Your pace got faster and faster. When a loud scream was struggling to leave your ecstasy-filled body, you realized that you should slow down.

But if you slowed down, Calum would beg for you to go faster. That wouldn't be good, would it? This was too new for you. You felt your worst enemy, doubt, engulf your common sense, and you didn't know what to do. You weren't used to this at all, and from watching Calum, you didn't remember him panicking in the midst of fucking you.

"Calum, baby," you whimpered. He looked at you, eyebrows scrunched with concern. When you saw you break out into a cold sweat, he pressed down on your hips so you would stop riding him.

You sat up straight and your panting turned into wheezing. "W- What's wrong?" he asked.

"Help me," you said through your labored breathing. Your words were your gateway to slipping back into the more submissive side. Doubt was not a common guest in the bedroom, and you didn't mean to invite it in. You knew Calum's body, and he knew yours. He knew exactly what to say and what to do to pleasure you to the fullest extent.

However, tonight, everything weaved into a large question mark. You didn't know how to get rid of it. Now with everything flipped around, it was all new. Though nerving and horrifying, it was exciting. You've only felt pleasure and pain in the bedroom.

You and Calum have never had a setback during sex, and that was why Calum was determined to help you through this. He wanted to be the one to set off the fresh journey to discovering ideas and antics you hadn't tried.

"Come on, my love, don't stop now," he encouraged. "I know this is new to you, and it's scaring you. Don't give up, baby. You're almost there." His voice barely surpassed a hushed whisper, and that was the only constant thing about this situation.

His words helped, but not enough to get you to do anything significant. “I- I…” you squeaked.

“Focus on how good I feel inside you, baby,” he said as he bent his knees. He started rolling his hips and thrusting into you. Your mouth clenched shut, whimpers struggling to squeeze past your lips. You tried to contribute to his efforts as well, but you couldn't, knowing you didn’t have the adrenaline needed to carry you through to your nearing orgasm. "It doesn't hurt, right?"

The best you could do was shake your head. At your answer, he sped up his pace. While he grabbed your neck and pulled you down for a heated kiss, your eyes fluttered closed. The quick slash of pain disappeared and was replaced with overwhelming pleasure. You weren't sure how he did it, but he lured you back into his spell. Instead of him morphing into what you wanted, you were the one melting to his touch. You moaned into his mouth, so Calum struggled to kiss you properly. He made the swift transition from your lips to your neck.

Hurriedly, he masked your sweating flesh with kisses. His lips messily traversed up to your ear and nibbled it. “You can do this,” he whispered in your ear. "I know you're not in pain, so you're holding back. Let your worries go." It’s been months since your body experienced something this powerful. Your orgasm should have rained down on you a long time ago, and you were clenching around him. The signs of an aggressive orgasm were there, but your body refused to make anything happen.

“I’m so close, b- but I can’t!” you shouted. Calum masterfully kept a consistent pace (which you greatly envied). Your self-doubt was the only thing holding you from releasing, and you both knew it. The seemingly unanswerable question was: how are you going to get rid of that self-doubt? He was desperate for you to come before he did. The last thing he wanted was for you to see that he wasn't struggling as much as you were. It hurt to hold off his orgasm for as long as he was, but he was too focused on making you come that he hadn’t noticed.

His gaze flickered from your closed eyes to your open mouth, almost putting him in a trance. Sadly, he couldn't stay in that trance. He kissed your cheek, and his lips lingered there so he could reply, “Yes, you can!" The hushed whisper escalated to growling, now. "Scream my name. Scream it. Let the world know who’s fucking you.” To you, he seemed so sure of himself. In honesty, he had no clue if what he was doing was beneficial. He wasn't used to saying and doing the wrong things, and neither were you. It was simpler to assume that you both were confident in what you were doing, though it was clear you weren't.

Fortunately, Calum had said the right thing that set you off. “C- Calum!” you shrieked. Your orgasm finally crashed down on you, and you moaned so loud your voice went hoarse. The tightest, trickiest knot in your stomach sent endless shivers throughout your weakened body. It unraveled fully, and it was a relief to breath normally. Previously, with every intake of air, it felt like daggers were stabbing you in the stomach. The more you 'd denied your orgasm, the more twisted you felt your insides become. Once you released, you were affronted by a cold sweat. Calum helped you ride your high out, only elongating the pleasure further. Your head fell backwards, and your body was shaking with pure ecstasy.

The ecstasy didn't last long though. It wore off within seconds. "Stop holding it back, Cal," you said. "Let it all go." Calum moaned instantly at your approval, and his load filled the condom in a split second. Calum bit down on your neck as his orgasm weighed down on him. The excitement and thrill of being so terrified of what was to happen really turned Calum on. He'd regretted not trying something new in the bed earlier. His head dug into the mattress, and his hips collided with yours. You smiled, admiring his serenity. He was so beautiful. His hair wasn't done up to perfection; his body was as sweaty as yours. For once, you felt comfortable making a mistake in this relationship, and you made it with him. Believe it or not, you'd love to make more mistakes with him.

You were panting, and your bones were ready to crack under the pressure of the hefty atmosphere pressing down on your shoulders. You felt Calum’s teeth pierce another area of your neck, creating more than a simple hickey. Blood rose from underneath the sensitive skin, and Calum pulled away when your blood landed on the tip of his tongue.

"It's okay," you said when you saw the fear in his eyes. Calum was slick with the mixture of your and his sweat. He and you stared at each other for a few minutes, memorizing what the other looked like. You wouldn't forget this night, and that was certain.

To add onto his beauty, he looked just as tired as you. Still, he had the endurance to lift you in the air so he could exit you. He laid you down on the bed and pecked your lips. "I love you," he whispered.

"And I love you." He planted more kisses on your face for added effect. You curled up to stop your body from shaking while Calum disposed the condom into the trash can. 

He retrieved his boxers and slipped them on. “After that, I’m not sure drugs can compare,” he rasped. Thinking you were listening, he scrunched his eyebrows when you didn’t respond. He walked to the bed and saw that you’d dozed off in the quick seconds his body wasn’t connected with yours. He smiled and dressed you swiftly in his sweatshirt and a clean pair of panties. Calum smoothed the duvet out and tossed it over your warm bodies. Almost too easily, he fell asleep with you in his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> yo follow me on [tumblr](http://www.fratcal.tumblr.com).
> 
> if u want to, pls [request](http://www.fratcal.tumblr.com/ask) anything i should write bc i post there as well.


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